iHad a Bad Day
by Random Storygirl
Summary: Sam is upset when her mom is having relationship troubles, her grades are dropping, and Wendy gets angry at her. Will Freddie cheer her up or only make her day worse?


**Author's Note: **Wow guys…it's been a long time since I've written anything. Well, sorta. I've started a few things, but I haven't finished anything. I've been getting too many ideas. I've been really busy with homework and such. And my new Tumblr obsession is not helping to give me time to write. But I have two ideas for Victorious one-shots, three ideas for long iCarly stories, two ideas for iCarly two-shots, and one idea for an iCarly one-shot. And then I gotta finish all my Degrassi stories even though I'm honestly beginning to lose interest in the show. I'm also planning to write a book. Like, a real one. So yeah…I have a lot of writing ahead of me. At least I don't have writer's block…that would suck. But hopefully, this weekend, I will get as much done as possible. So here is…whatever story I feel like starting right now. I think I'll do the future one with Sam and Freddie dating. So just pretend it's the middle of their senior year, okay? We good? Awesome. Time to stop babbling and start writing! :D

**Disclaimer:** I don't own iCarly. If I did, Marty would come back and have passionate gay sex with Spencer (off-screen, of course). :D

**iHad a Bad Day**

The sound of my mother's argument with Jim beat my alarm clock to waking me up that morning. Or should I say, the loud bang of my mother's boyfriend punching a hole through the wall. It was six in the morning, a half hour before I normally got up. So needless to say, I was pretty cranky when I trudged quietly downstairs to see what all the commotion was about. I stood behind the wall outside of the kitchen to find out why they were fighting.

"Why are you so mad?" I heard my mom yell.

"Because you forgot to buy my special chicken!" Jim hollered back. Oddly enough, his "special" chicken was in dinosaur nugget form.

"And that's cause enough for you to break my apartment?" mom shot back.

"No! But maybe the fact that I got fired is!" Jim's green eyes flashed with anger. Jim wasn't actually that bad-looking. At first I thought he was a nice choice for my mom. Aside from his rather large nose and handlebar mustache, he was almost a catch. But when he got angry, he turned into a horrifying monster. His steel-toed boots looked like they could kick you to Mexico and the vein in his neck bulged so much that I thought it would explode. His pale face became red as a tomato and sweat started dripping off his beard. Unfortunately, this happened a lot. Of course my mom would meet a guy with anger issues. It was hard to meet a guy without anger problems in a bar at three in the morning.

"It's not the wall's fault Jim! It's your fault for starting a fight club at work!" Pam spat.

"It's not my fault or the wall's! It's yours!" he shouted.

"Oh really? I'm dying to hear your logic behind this one!" she rolled her eyes.

"If you hadn't turned on that movie about the fight clubs, I would have never gotten the idea!" he explained.

"I don't make your decisions! This was all you! You got yourself fired, and you screwed up your own life!" Suddenly, I heard a loud slam. I peered around the corner and saw my mom backed against the wall, Jim's hands wrapped tightly around her wrists. He towered over her, breathing heavily. I could smell the whiskey on his breath from where I was standing.

"You will not talk to me that way," he growled quietly but menacingly. My mother's expression changed from livid to fearful in a matter of seconds.

"Please let go of me," my mother pleaded, a single tear rolling down her cheek. I wanted to help. I wanted to pound the fudge out of that man for hurting my mother like this. But something kept my feet rooted to the floor. This situation was too real. It wasn't like when I beat up Gibby in the hallway every once in a while because someone lied to me about taco day in the cafeteria or when I needed to punch something after I found out that Mr. Howard and Miss Briggs were my co-principals. I was absolutely enraged. I felt my fury simmering violently deep inside me, waiting to bust out and leave absolute destruction in its wake. And that honestly scared the chiz out of me. And unlike many of my other foes, Jim seemed like a guy who could mess me up pretty badly in a fight. So I waited where I was like a coward. After a minute Jim finally let go of her and walked to the door.

"I'm leaving," he stated simply, grabbing his coat and slipping his shoes on.

"Will you be back?" my mother asked hopefully.

"Of course. Even though you make me mad sometimes, I still love you," Jim replied, opening the door.

"I love you, too," my mother murmured as the door shut. She waited a few moments before she slid down the wall to sit and hung her head as she began to cry. I finally regained my mobility and silently strode towards her. I stood there quietly as she wept and she didn't notice. Finally, I spoke up.

"You need to break up with him," I stated simply. She looked up at me, surprised, and then quickly glanced back down as if that would hide her tears from me.

"I don't need relationship advice from a teenager who has only kissed one guy in her whole life," she muttered. I grudgingly ignored that comment and continued.

"But you know you have to break up with him, right?"

"I don't have to do anything! I love him! We're fine! Stay out of it!" she protested.

"I don't think you love him. I think you're afraid of him. I think you're scared that he'll hurt you again if you try to end it. But you need to do that because if you don't stop going out with him, it might get worse and…"

"That's it! Get out of here! Get your butt to school or the library or juvie or wherever! I don't care. Just leave me alone!" she interrupted loudly.

"But…"

"Now!" she screamed. I stood stock still in shock for a few seconds before backing out of the house. As soon as the door closed, I heard her sobs faintly through the walls.

I walked through Seattle and stopped at the convenience store across the street from school to buy a T-shirt and sweatpants that I could wear to school and a box of mints so that my breath wouldn't be completely disgusting. On the way out, I ripped a perfume sample from the pages of a magazine and rubbed it on to try and mask the smell of Jim's cigarettes. Unfortunately, it happened to be the new One Day perfume, so I would be sitting in my classes all day smelling like Rustin Hieber. I managed to make it to school at the beginning of second period.

"Ah, Miss Puckett! How nice of you to grace us with your presence!" Mr. Stern greeted sardonically, "In case you didn't know, being fashionably late for school is not as cool as you might think,"

"You're lucky I didn't wait to arrive until lunch!" I shot back as a plopped down in my seat next to Carly.

"That's enough of you attitude, missy!" he warned.

"My name is not Missy. If it was, I would be evil," I replied.

"You don't need to change your name to be evil," he muttered under his breath as he handed me a worksheet and continued teaching.

"Why are you so late?" Carly whispered.

"I stopped at the Pear Store on the way here," I lied.

"Why?"

"I'm trying to find a birthday present for Freddie," I explained.

"I know what you could get Freddie for his birthday," Carly raised her eyebrows suggestively.

"What?"

"Your lips," she started making kissy noises and I laughed.

"That's it, Puckett!" Mr. Stern yelled, "That's a detention!"

"But I was talking, too!" Carly protested.

"Yes, but unlike you, Sam probably won't be doing her homework tonight. So it won't matter to her if she spends an extra hour here doing nothing instead of an hour at home the same way," he sneered.

"That's not fair!" Carly proclaimed.

"Carls, chill!" I cautioned. She looked at me and opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it, defeated. Mr. Stern resumed his lesson, "But thanks anyway," I whispered. Before class ended, Mr. Stern handed back the tests we took the day before.

"Great job, Carly!" he praised her as he gave her the exam, "Best mark in the whole class,"

"Really?" she asked, smiling as she checked her grade. Mr. Stern then turned to me, grimacing as he placed my paper face down on my desk, "What did you get?"

"I can't look," I admitted. Instead of listening in class, I had spent a majority of my time playing Pyramid Sprint on my phone.

"Do you want me to look for you?" Carly offered.

"Sure," I agreed, looking down at my desk so I couldn't see Carly's reaction.

"Wow…" she remarked.

"Is it that bad?" I groaned.

"It's…more than nineteen percent," Carly tried.

"What is it?"

"…Twenty percent,"

"Ugh!" I exclaimed, letting my head hit my desk, "Ouch!" Normally, I wouldn't care much about my grades. But if I didn't have above a sixty percent average in every class, I wouldn't be able to graduate. And right then, I had a thirty-nine percent. I needed to raise my grade or else I would be stuck in this chizhole for another year while Carly and Freddie moved onto the universities of their dreams. I could not spend a whole year with Gibby as my only friend left in school.

"Maybe Freddie could tutor you," Carly proposed.

"Because that went so well last time!" I remarked sarcastically. Freddie and I started with a short-lived tutoring session at Carly's kitchen table and ended up in a long make-out session on her couch. While explaining ourselves to Spencer when he got home, Freddie described it as an intensive review of anatomy, an excuse that could have worked if I had been smart enough to take that class.

"Do you want me to tutor you?" she questioned.

"Nah, you're always busy. You've got better things to do," I declined. Besides, I was a hopeless case anyway.

"I always have time for my best friend," she told me sincerely.

"Thanks for offering, Carllama, but I think I'll be fine,"

"Alrighty then…Carllama?" she asked, amused.

"Things come out of my mouth that I don't even understand," I clarified.

"Okay…" The bell rang. We didn't have any more subjects together, at least not this year. So I walked to my next class alone. Fortunately, I spotted Wendy in the hallway and waved. She glanced at me, scowled, and then continued walking. I didn't understand why. We hadn't gotten into any fights, so I ran over to see what was wrong.

"Hey!" I greeted, falling in step with her and giving my best fake smile. She didn't even look up. I ran in front of her, "Hey!" I said louder.

"What do you want?" she spat.

"What's with the chizzy attitude?" I asked.

"I think you know exactly what's up with it!" she countered, trying to walk away. I grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back.

"Umm…no, I don't! What did I do wrong?" I questioned.

"You were supposed to help me put that bucket of feathers and pudding over the door to the teacher's lounge this morning!" she explained. Realization dawned on me.

"Oh…"

"I didn't have a lookout so I got caught! I got a two-day suspension! Thanks a lot!" she grumbled.

"I'm sorry! But…something came up!" I tried to reason.

"Please! I bet you lost track of time kissing Freddie or doing your hair! Some friend you are," she glowered as she marched down the hall to her next class, not even bothering to look back. I remained there, defeated, before trudging to my next class.

"There you are! How was detention?" Carly welcomed me to her apartment after school.

"Stupid," I muttered, still upset as I flopped onto the sofa.

"I'll bet." She agreed.

"Where's Fredicine?" I inquired.

"He was here, but his mom made him come home and disinfect himself,"

"Gross," I remarked.

"Yeah, because being free of germs is absolutely disgusting," she replied cynically, "Speaking of cleaning yourself, I'm going to go take a bath. When I'm finished and Freddie's back, we can start planning for iCarly," she told me.

"Alright…don't get your toe stuck again!" I warned jokingly. Carly rolled her eyes before running upstairs. Then I was alone with my thoughts. I began to realize that this day had been a pretty awful one. But before I started drowning in self-pity, Freddie walked in, slamming the door behind him.

"Ugh!" he groaned as he plodded to the couch, "My mom is just…ugh!"

"Yeah, join the club," I grumbled, recalling what had happened earlier.

"Psht! I wish I had your mom right now," he commented as he sat next to me on the couch.

"…What?" I asked, shocked.

"You're lucky that she doesn't hassle you all the time," he explained, "You can go wherever you want, eat food with real sugar, shampoo only once, and not get a time out when you don't eat vegetables,"

"You think…that I'm…lucky?" I repeated slowly in disbelief. I felt something building inside me.

"Well…yeah," he agreed a bit reluctantly, a bit confused by my response. And that's when I snapped. All the stupid chiz that had happened that day set me on edge, lit my fuse, and that comment set off the bomb. I jumped up and turned to face him, glaring.

"Do you think it's lucky that I have to go home every night to a home with barely any food…and a mother that just watches TV and doesn't care…and some random guy she met at a club that smells like alcohol and smoke and barf? Do you think it's lucky that my best friend's house is the only place that I actually don't feel like a burden and get fed?" I shouted angrily.

"Well, no, but…" he spoke up nervously.

"Do you think it's lucky to have two unbelievably smart friends and a perfect sister…and to always be compared to them….and to always feel stupid because I'll never get the grades they get? Do you think its lucky to have every adult look at you like you're one of those stereotypical teenagers that always screws up and won't amount to anything?"

"Sam, calm down. I didn't mean it like that," Freddie tried to reassure me. But I was already too far gone.

"Do you think it's lucky that I'll probably end up on the streets? Because I'm so stupid and because my mom won't help me pay for college? Do you think it's lucky that I'll either have a job at some disgusting place like Chili My Bowl or get arrested and sent to jail? Do you think it's lucky that I'm stuck on that path and I don't know how to get off it? Do you think it's…" Freddie got up without a word and pulled me into a tight hug. And before I knew it, I was crying my eyes out. I was too upset to even care that this was the first time I had let Freddie see me cry. He just held me in his arms and whispered in my ear. I couldn't hear his words over my shuddering breaths, but just the sound of his voice somehow made me feel better. Once I started to calm down, I spoke again.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you like that," I mumbled, "I've been having a crabby day,"

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Nah, I just want to stay like this," We were silent for a few minutes before I said something.

"I mean, I know my life isn't that bad. There are kids at our school who will probably be druggies for the rest of their lives. There are unborn baby girls in India who are killed because their fathers wanted a son. There are starving kids in Africa with malaria who will probably work their whole lives for only enough to just barely live. They have it worse than me. But still, my life isn't that good, either," I tried to explain.

"Sam, it's okay. Everything will be okay. You are smart. You don't really apply yourself in school, but you come up with the best plans ever. And you're so creative and funny and you made up the best iCarly bits. And you're not afraid to say what you think and you're so strong, physically and emotionally. And you're the most beautiful girl in the world, and anyone who can't see that is blind. And I love you,"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you love me? Because you think I'm smart, creative, funny, strong and beautiful?" I inquired. I'm surprised he thought I was any of those things, especially smart.

"Well, yes. But that's not all," he replied.

"What's the other reason?"

"Because I need you. Because you are different from anyone else I ever met. Everyone is always trying to protect me and be nice to me. My mom has tried to make sure that I would never get hurt. People like Carly and Gibby are always nice to me and don't want to hurt my feelings. But you don't do that. You're not afraid to hurt me. You like to challenge me. You like to take me out of my clean, friendly world and show me how things really are. You make things interesting and new and you turned me into the kinda guy who would laugh at the scrawny nerd I used to be. You're everything I'm not and I love that," he explained sincerely. I stared at him, speechless. Then suddenly, the words flowed out of me.

"…And I love you because you make me feel loved. You remind me that there are still good, innocent, smart people out there. I love that you are so obsessed with computers and trains and math and that you don't care if people make fun of you for it because you're doing what you like to do. I love the way you talk about those things because they make you smile. I don't know why, but your smile…it just freaking takes my breath away. And I love you because you don't want to change me into your dream girl because for some odd reason, I am your dream girl," I replied. He was silent for a few moments.

"That was sappy," Freddie grinned jokingly.

"Yeah, well yours was sappier!" I shot back.

"Really? 'Your smile takes my breath away' is one of the cheesiest lines ever!"

"Fine! Maybe we're both just full of cheese and sap! And maybe when we die, they'll open us up for an autopsy and that's all they'll see," Freddie laughed.

"So is there anything I can do to make your bad day a little better?" he asked.

"You could start by making me soup," I offered. Freddie walked over to the kitchen and searched through the cupboards for soup while I lay down on the couch.

"…I don't think Carly has any soup. Sorry," he saw my face fall, "but maybe this could make up for it," he smirked as he walked back to me, kneeled down, and kissed me. When we broke apart, he smiled at me hopefully.

"…Nope. I still want soup. Run across the street and get me some?" I asked. He chuckled.

"Sure thing, princess," he remarked sarcastically as he walked out the door.

A few minutes later, Carly came downstairs. I hadn't even noticed the water shut off.

"Hey, where's Freddie?" she questioned.

"Getting soup for me," I replied, "Serving me food means he's totally getting a fancy new phone for his birthday," Carly smiled, but then she saw my face.

"Sam, are you okay? You look like you've been crying," she inquired, concerned.

"Honestly, I'm a lot better now. Don't worry about it," I brushed it off. I really did feel better. Freddie and food can always do that.

"Okay. But do you want some popcorn?" she offered.

"Yes please," Look's like Mama's eatin' good tonight.

**Author's Note: **Ah, yes. Cheesiness. I had a lot of trouble not making Sam's troubles too overdramatic and not making Freddie too…well, perfect. But hopefully that was okay. Also, the parts where Sam was making her big speech about her life and when they were saying all that sappy stuff, it was supposed to be kinda grammatically incorrect. It's not like it was rehearsed or anything. I tried to make it more realistic, but I most likely failed. If you liked that, please review. It would mean a lot! Or if you hated it, tell me what I can do better. So yeah. Cheerio! :D


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